


The Rogues' Room

by sunkelles



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Evil, F/F, Femslash, Snaibsel Week 2018, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 09:37:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15410076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunkelles/pseuds/sunkelles
Summary: Zatanna shows up at a supervillain bar. Tigress is surprised, but not opposed to entertaining the little lost magician who it turns out isn't so little or lost at all. It turns out Zatanna Zatara knows exactly what she's doing.





	The Rogues' Room

**Author's Note:**

  * For [titaniumsansa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/titaniumsansa/gifts).



> titaniumsansa: i want to let you know that i had this idea before you told me a little about what your evil au was going to be so i know that the "getting zatara off mode" thing is overlapping but i promise we came up with that independently 
> 
> 1\. written for day 3 of snaibsel week, evil au   
> 2\. zatanna is the twenty sort of underage but also? has never really drank before? so she's pretty clueless about the whole thing  
> 3\. i was trying to find a villain bar in central city that i was like ninety nine percent sure existed to use for this but i think that it's just a flash fanon thing haha  
> 4\. i'm pretty sure that watching so much gilmore girls lately has influenced my dialog writing style

Most bars don’t have a gimmick. Bars don’t really need one. If they’re good enough at attracting customers and serving them the booze they want, then they don’t really need one. Their gimmick can be existing as a bar. Some bars, though, _do_ need a gimmick. They need something to help them draw in customers because they couldn’t establish themselves as different from the rest and can't draw in customers without one.

Tigress, for one, would never visit this particular bar that she spends most of her nights in if it weren’t for the villainous gimmick. _The Rogue’s Room_ is the most popular hangout for criminals of all sorts in Gotham, from petty thieves to drug dealers to gangsters to straight up supervillians. It’s selection of actual booze, though, is abysmal.

Normally the knowledge that _The Rogue’s Room_ is a bar by villains for villains is enough to keep heroes away, and if not that, the seedy atmosphere and lack of any foreign beers, wines that don’t come in boxes, or mixed drinks that don’t require more than one ingredient. Apparently,though, that's not enough to ward this particular hero off. Tigress thinks it’s because she’s a magician. Maybe because she creates wards herself she just ignores all the ones that other people set in place.

“Zatanna Zatara?” Tigress whispers, looking up at the other girl in shock. She would shout it in surprise if she weren't afraid someone might shoot her down if Tigress calls attention to her. She has the same dark black hair, pale skin and bright blue eyes that she always has, but this time she’s not wearing her magician’s getup. She’s wearing a bright blue blouse and a pair of dark wash skinny jeans.She might be in civvies, but the girl is unmistakably Zatanna Zatara. Tigress is more familiar with her face than she’d really like to be, and she’d know it wherever she saw it.

“The one and only,” the girl says. She sits down across from Tigress in the decaying plastic booth seat. It used to be a bright red, but now it’s faded so much it looks brown.

“What are you doing here?” Tigress asks, keeping her voice low, “superheroes aren’t exactly welcome.” If Zatanna’s come here to bust her favorite shitty bar and villain hangout, she’s got another thing coming. Tigress would kick her ass, and she’s far from the scariest person in this room. Most of the other people here wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in her head.

Tigress might not want the other girl to be here, but she’d like for her to leave alive. She’s Tigress’s favorite little hero to flirt with. Heists wouldn’t be the same without her to tease.

“I’m not here on business,” Zatanna says, “I’m here for personal reasons.”

“Personal reasons,” Tigress says flatly. She doesn’t know what in the world that means, but she doubts if it’s good. There’s no good reason to have a member of the Junior Justice League taking up space in the villain’s bar.

“I was looking for you, actually.” _Oh god_ , Tigress thinks. She knows where this is going. Kid Flash had come to her with the “become good and come date me!” proposition on multiple occasions, and she flirted with that kid way less than she did with magician girl.

“Look,” Tigress says, “I know I’ve flirted with you a few times, but that doesn’t mean I’ll change sides for you. Just cause my sister’s kind of a hero now doesn’t mean I want to be.” Tigress restricts her hero activities to when the world is in mortal peril, thank you very much.

“No,” Zatanna says, “it’s not about that.”

“It’s not?”

“I wanted advice,” Zatanna says.

“Advice?” Tigress asks, “I doubt I can give the kind of advice you’re looking for. Unless you want a drink recommendation.”

“I’m not even legal,” Zatanna says.

“You aren’t?” Tigress asks. Zatanna shakes her head. Then Tigress grins, and shouts across the room to the bartender.

“Tiffany! I want a drink for my underage friend,” Tigress says, grinning from ear to ear. Zatanna shoots the bartender a horrified look, but she sends Tigress a thumbs up and starts whipping her up something. She pours some vodka and orange juice in a glass and then brings it over to their table. 

“The screwdriver’s on the house, it’s cheap as shit to make and, well.” Tiffany's black lips curl into a smile, “I love giving underagers their first drink. Call it my own favorite crime." Then, Tiffany winks as she leaves them.

“How the _fuck_ ,” Zatanna says, dragging out the first curse word that Tigress has ever heard her says, “is this bar still in business?”

“The police in this area are dirty,” Tigress says. Pretty much all of the police in all of Gotham are dirty, but she thinks that it’s probably easier on Zatanna’s fragile sensibilities to think that it’s just a minority of officers in a precinct in the seedy part of town.

Tigress pushes the screwdriver closer to Zatanna and gestures to it. 

“You should at least try it,” Tigress says, “Tiffany worked hard on it.”

“She poured orange juice and something clear into a glass,” Zatanna says, “I don’t think that qualifies as hard work.”

“Just try it. You come to a villains’ bar, you gotta break a few rules,” Tigress challenges. Zatanna meets her eye, and maintains contact. Then, she grabs the glass and takes a swig. Unsurprisingly, she does not look like a seasoned drinker. She sets the glass back down on the table.

“It’s strong,” Zatanna says, making a disgusted face as she looks at her glass. Tigress laughs.

“They make ‘em strong here,” Tigress says, “it’s what attracts the non-villain crowd. More bang for their buck.” Tigress actually thinks that Tiffany’s a little _too_ heavy-handed sometimes. She doesn’t like when her mixed drinks taste like shots, but she’s not about to let the little hero girl know that. Tigress wants to be seen as a badass that can hold a conversation along with her liquor.

“Is there even orange juice in that thing? It tastes like _rubbing alcohol.”_ Tigress shrugs.

“If it were just vodka, it’d be clear,” Tigress says, “that’s _clearly_ orange. There’s at least a little juice in it.”

“Less than I’d like,” Zatanna says.

“Underage kids who get free drinks can’t be choosers,” Tigress tells her. Zatanna sighs, and takes another swig of her vodka with a hint of orange juice. She makes a face as it goes down, but she takes another one right afterwards.

“You’re drinking that a little fast, aren’t you?” Tigress asks. She knows that Zatanna might not know that, seeing as she’s obviously never drank before, but if she keeps drinking hard liquor at that rate she’s going to be barfing up her guts in the bar toilet they never clean within the hour.

“I needed some liquid courage for this one,” Zatanna says.

“And what is this one?”

“The question I came to ask,” Zatanna sighs, then takes another fucking swig. Tigress rips the half-finished screwdriver out of her hand.

“No more booze for you, newbie,” Tigress says, “I don’t think you can handle that much.” It might not hit her for awhile, but if Zatanna goes through this whole drink this quickly and then, god forbid, orders _another one,_ the lightweight might not even make it to the toilet. She might just puke all over their table. Tigress is not having that.

“What did you come to ask that you needed that much liquor for?” Tigress asks. The drink won’t have kicked in yet, but she thinks that Zatanna might not know that. The kid seems inexperienced enough that she might be convinced it’s working already. Placebos are powerful.

“You’ve killed people before, haven’t you?” Zatanna asks. Tigress tries not to look as taken aback at that. The fuck kind of question is that? They both know the answer to that already.

“It’s called the League of _Assassins_ , Zatanna, not the League of Friendship.” Zatanna bristles, and Tigress rolls her eyes.

“Don’t treat me like I’m stupid,” Zatanna says.

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Tigress says, more gently than she’d really meant to, “just naive. This is real life, not _My Little Pony._ ”  Zatanna looks nervous and a little embarrassed, but she looks Tigress straight in the eyes.

“I know that. Trust me.” Tigress sighs. She doesn’t know what she expected to come from this conversation, really, but she didn’t expect it to be whatever this is. She wants to at least know what Zatanna’s after.

“What do you want, Zatanna?” Tigress asks. Her voice sounds tired even to her own ears.

“I want your help with something,” Zatanna says. _Help?_ Zatanna asks her if she’s ever killed anyone, and then immediately segues into asking her for help. That’s certainly piqued her interest.

“With what?” Tigress asks. Really, she can’t help but be intrigued. Zatanna must be desperate to come to the villain who flirted with her a few times for help.

“I need to do something terrible,” she says, “maybe worse than killing someone.” Tigress knows that there are things worse than death, tortures worse than a clean slice of the throat. She doubts that this sweet, fragile little hero would even think of them, though.

“Tell me about it,” Tigress says.

“I want to free my father,” Zatanna says.

“Freeing your father is admirable,” Tigress says, “ _heroic_ even. What did you mean about it being worse than killing someone?” Tigress might be a villain, but she’s not a _monster._ She knows that Zatanna here is a good person, one with good intentions. She’s sure that Zatanna’s intentions are better than hers, which are to make enough money to live comfortably, pay her mother’s medical bills and send her father a big middle finger beyond the grave.

Zatanna looks down at her hands, and there’s a steely edge in her bright blue eyes.

“I thought that he was a hero?” Tigress asks, hoping for a clarification, “Dr. Fate’s host, right?”

“ _Host_ is the operative word there,” Zatanna says, and her words sound like poison, “Dr. Fate is a parasite. He took over my father’s body and won’t give it back. I haven’t gotten to talk to him in five years, and if I don’t do something, I never will again.” There’s a look in Zatanna’s eyes, something harder and colder than Tigress has ever seen from her. That’s the look of someone who’s tired of waiting and tired of losing.

Tigress shivers. She’s never seen anything quite so intense as the fire in Zatanna’s eyes.  That’s the look of a desperate young woman, willing to do whatever it takes to save her father. It’s a level of passion that Tigress has never seen. She’s not sure that she even understands it, as someone who wouldn’t piss on her own father if he were on fire.

But then Tigress puts her mother in this man’s place instead of her father and imagines that instead. She thinks about all of the things that she’s done to pay her mother’s medical bills. She thinks about how she would feel if someone calling himself a hero stole away her mother and used her body as his living puppet. She thinks that it doesn’t even skim the surface of the rage and determination that Zatanna is feeling, but she understands it a little better now. 

Maybe Tigress should discourage this. Those are the eyes of someone on the threshold, sitting across the fence between heaven and hell. If she has a push in the right direction, she might go right back to her little life of hero work. It would probably be better for her, healthier. She’d keep doing all the good works that she was always known for.

Right now, Zatanna Zatara is a small fire burning in a controlled area. If Tigress helps her, she might became a firestorm that consumes whole cities. Tigress thinks about the time that she finally left her father to die. She wonders if her eyes looked like this too.

“What did you have in mind?” Tigress asks. She found her peace of mind by leaving her father to die in a bombing, maybe Zatanna can find hers by saving her own.

“I have to trick someone else into becoming Fate’s puppet,” Zatanna says. Ah, Tigress thinks. She finally understands what Zatanna meant by doing something worse than killing someone. Zatanna wants to steal someone's free will and control over their life to give her father back his own. 

This will bring Zatara back, but not to a world that he’ll want to live in. If there’s one thing that Tigress knows about heroes, it’s that they don’t appreciate when their loved ones do immoral things to save them. She’s heard Red Arrow shouting her sister out for the things that she’s done to protect him and Lian over and over again.

“Your father won’t approve, Zatanna,” Tigress says, “I hope you know that.”

“I do,” Zatanna says firmly, “and I don't care. As long as he’s safe and free, it doesn’t matter. He can hate me for this, just as long as it saves him.” Tigress can’t decide if that’s the coldest or the most selfless thing that she’s ever heard, but she likes it. She likes it a lot.

“Oh Zatanna,” Tigress says, settling on the first, “that is _cold.”_ She smiles wide, a predator’s smile. A big cat ready to pounce on her prey.

“I like it.”

“Will you help me?” Zatanna asks. Her voice is softer now. She’s nervous now, worried that Tigress might turn her down.

“Of course,” Tigress says, “how could I reject a beautiful woman in need?” Zatanna actually blushes at that.

“Why I’ll never,” she says in a thick, fake southern accent, “I don’t even know your name.”

“Artemis Crock,” Tigress says, grabbing Zatanna’s hand and giving it a firm shake, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“I- uh, I didn’t expect to actually get your name,” Zatanna says, looking a little shellshocked.

“And I didn’t expect to get myself a partner in crime today,” Artemis says, “seems we’re both a bit surprised.” Zatanna nods, as if that explanation makes perfect sense.

“Now, since I’m going to be apart of that plan of yours,” Artemis says, “you should tell me all about it.” Zatanna nods easily, far more comfortable in this space than she was a few moments ago. She starts detailing her plan, flawlessly plotted and strategically sound. She’s clearly been thinking about this for a long time.

Tigress has caught herself not just a former hero, but a smart one at that. She’s not sure which one of them hit the jackpot, the villain with the powerful new magician partner or the little former hero who found someone willing to help her go over the edge.

Maybe they both just lucked out today. After all, _The Rogue’s Room_ is the perfect place for villainous dreams to come true.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. this is probably the only snaibsel week fic i'll get worked up but i sure did get one! i'm v pleased that i actually managed to finish this one :)  
> 2\. the person that zatanna's planning to trick into the helmet is none other than constantine. if anyone's interested in reading a follow up where that happens, let me know! i might be able to work one up if there's enough interest in it


End file.
